


Open Fire

by greygerbil



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Haytham Kenway, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Charles Lee, Omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 03:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17521556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Haytham expected this rescue to go differently, and Charles had much less exciting plans for his heat.





	Open Fire

“What do you mean, Charles cannot attend the meeting?”

Thomas Hickey shrugged his shoulders and took another draught from his beaker of ale before noisily wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Just what I said. Sent a boy to with a letter saying he’s ‘indisposed’. You want more, you’re gonna have to ask him yourself.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult. His room is still down the hall, is it?”

“I think he checked out last evening, actually,” William said. “He went to the Three Kings next to the printer’s shop.”

How curious. Haytham had seen the place often when coming up the street to the Green Dragon. Why move away from them just a couple hundred feet down the road?

“I better go check on him after we’re done. This is not like him.”

Though he did not wish to invite the others to talk badly about Charles by pointing out his, to Haytham, rather endearing overeagerness, in truth he could not see him miss a Templar meeting for anything less than two broken legs and a cracked skull. Ever since he had received his ring three weeks ago, Charles had spent all his available time proving to Haytham that he had certainly made the right decision by allowing him into the order.

“Considering circumstances, I would suspect nature is at fault rather than him having taken suddenly ill,” Benjamin said, raising a brow at Haytham with an expression which told one that topics were breached now not to be talked of in polite society.

Of course, Thomas was not polite society and would have in fact been insulted if someone had called him that.

“Nature, wot?” He frowned before sudden understanding dawned on his face. “Oh! I keep forgetting that! Put an alpha’s temper in that one. Poor Charlie,” he gave a laugh that was all mockery, “would be surprised if he could get an alpha to fu-”

“That’s quite enough!” Haytham interrupted sharply.

Yes, of course, the heat. Benjamin likely knew more than he said on this matter, considering that Haytham had once overheard him and Charles speak quietly about acquiring the herbal concoction that prevented omegas from conceiving, which was not something people generally sold over the counter, since the conservative opinion was that it facilitated promiscuity in omegas; but Benjamin, of course, was interested in money, not morals. Obviously, being a healthy young man, Charles would still fall prey to the heat like every other omega, though so far he seemed to have always managed to do it when Haytham had no need of him. It could be coincidence, but Haytham wouldn’t put it past Charles to have planned out his missions and tasks accordingly, ever helpful as he was. Perhaps he had also attempted to showcase how well he could mitigate the impact of his nature on his life, since omegas were seldom inducted into the order. Haytham was quite glad for his prudence as usual, though, with a touch of longing, he considered that he would not have been too vexed to meet this very agreeable and handsome omega while enveloped in the scent of the heat some time.

-

If anything, that thought taught Haytham once more the dangers of wishing. It was only half a day later, in the evening, when Thomas came to him with information that Edward had apparently had some supporters in his regiment, Templar-adjacent, but blind to the good of the whole cause and only interested in Edward’s bloody version of it, who were now looking for revenge. Not an unsolvable problem, fortunately; most of Haytham’s men could simply be told to disperse to secure locations until he had had time to get a handle on the situation. Haytham doubted that Edward would have managed to collect strategic masterminds around himself, anyway, or that he even would have wanted to, for he had always disliked being shown up by his subordinates. However, they needed not be terribly smart to be a danger to Charles right now, who was both defenceless and exposed, too close to the usual meeting spot and likely in no shape to fight them off.

He would have to bring him somewhere safe, Haytham decided. The small town house at the edge of the city, which he had rented when it became clear he would stay in the colonies for longer, seemed like the best place. He could not say if the conspirators knew of it, but even if they did, it was easy to defend and empty of servants, who only came every once in a while to clean, meaning Haytham could dispose of bodies there without causing a scene, which might pose a problem in a lively inn.

After he had made his way to the Three Kings, Haytham decided not to waste his time with the front door, knowing that Charles had likely asked the owners to tell visitors that he was not to be disturbed. After tying his horse to a post, he instead took to the side of the building, working his way up with his fingers and the tips of his boots taking hold in the gaps between wooden planks. There was a row of windows that, as Haytham had suspected, looked into the guest rooms. He checked them one after the other until he found one that, at first glance, appeared to show an uninhabited space. However, when he narrowed his eyes to peer into the twilight, he saw a figure sprawled out on the covers of the bed. He barely recognised Charles. His dark hair laid open and tangled around his head and he wore nothing but brown trousers made of some soft fabric and a simple white shirt, a glaring contrast to his otherwise exceedingly fashionable wardrobe. Where he always had the watchful poise of a born and bred military man when awake, his limbs were loose and pliant now. The combination of it all made for a highly appealing image which Haytham, tragically, had no time to enjoy.

He tested the seat of the window in its frame, hearing it rattle, and gave the wooden part of it one sharp jab with the heel of his hand. The latch cracked open and the window swung inwards, admitting Haytham into the room. Charles did not stir on the bed.

Even before he had set his feet on the wooden floor boards, the scent of Charles’ heat greeted him like a wave rushing unto an unsuspecting wanderer at the shore. It was darker than most he’d known, like earth after the rain, but the lack of cloying sweetness really only made it more alluring to Haytham. Or was it his own favourable opinion of the man that would have turned any note of scent special? Either way, there was little time to enjoy it, and Haytham would have felt rather crude doing it without Charles’ permission, anyway.

He walked over to the bed and gave Charles’ shoulder a resolute shake. Even sleeping, his face was pink, with sweat visible on his brow and his lips parted to draw in air, his whole body radiating warmth. He had to be right in the thick of the heat, Haytham thought, and gave his best not to concentrate on his mouth, which looked so inviting.

“Charles!” he called.

Charles’ eyes fluttered open. He stared at up at him with a feverish haze in his eyes, not looking at all confused to find Haytham leaning over his bed.

“Master Kenway,” he said, smiling, and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling with such sudden and insistent force that Haytham was tipped over and fell right into a kiss. It was open-mouthed and sloppy, messy in a way that made one think of the sort of debauched acts that were done only outside the marriage beds of proper people. Partnered with the scent, Haytham needed a moment to force himself to remember why he was even here and that, regrettably, it was not to part Charles’ legs and claim him for the heat; even if the fact that Charles seemed so utterly unsurprised and unafraid to find Haytham in his room at such a vulnerable moment intrigued him.

After indulging himself for just a few seconds, pressing his tongue into Charles’ mouth and listening to the sound of pleasure he elicited with the act, Haytham finally worked up the willpower to pull back and keep Charles’ off of him with a firm grip on his shoulders.

“Charles,” he repeated. “Listen to me.”

Charles tried to lean in again to continue their kiss. Haytham pushed him back roughly, holding him at arm’s length.

“I need you to focus, Charles,” he said, in his best alpha voice, deep and authoritative. “Can you do that for me?”

“Yes?” Charles answered, and it sounded like he was not even sure what he was agreeing to, but simply doing it because Haytham had asked him.

“Edward Braddock had some supporters that will try to retaliate against us tonight. Since you were the man on the inside, I fear you are a special target. I’m going to bring you somewhere safe, alright?”

Charles blinked rapidly and touched his forehead, obviously trying to make himself think.

“Edward Braddock?” he asked helplessly. “He’s dead.”

Haytham wondered how much of what he’d said had even gotten through to him, and how he would make him understand right now. Time was of the essence. Perhaps, though, Charles did not need to know the details. He did seem to trust Haytham even like this.

“Forget that for the moment. Will you just follow me, please?” Haytham asked, still holding him tightly by the shoulders.

To this, Charles nodded his head.

“Good man,” Haytham said, standing and looking around the room. He saw Charles’ clothes and boots, but to make him put them on would probably take a while in his current state and seemed entirely unnecessary if all he planned to do was seat Charles on his own horse and whisk him away. After all, it was plain as day when Charles staggered to his feet that without support, he’d fall off an animal trying to carry him at anything faster than a light trot. Instead, Haytham grabbed the leather bag he saw in the corner and stuffed the loose items of clothing and shoes inside, all the while doing his best to ignore the way his instincts flared and bristled at Charles’ scent.

“Come,” he said, with a reassuring smile, as he put his arm around Charles’ shoulders.

Charles leaned into his side and Haytham unlocked the door with the key that laid on the table nearby. Thanks to Charles’ smell, they obviously turned some heads as they made their way downstairs and through the tavern, but Haytham diverted any undue attention with a warning look that easily said without words that this was his omega and he would tolerate no intruders on his property. Charles, for his part, kept his eyes on Haytham like he was a beacon.

Finally outside, where the dizzying effect of Charles’ scent was dispersed somewhat by a bracing wind, Haytham attached the bag to the saddle, untied the horse and helped Charles get up on its back before following him swiftly. When Haytham seated himself, Charles gave a full-body shudder and Haytham murmured some calming words of sympathy. With a moving creature between his legs, pressing into now too-sensitive spots, and an alpha flush against his back, Charles was probably in agony. But apparently he did have some understanding of the situation, for he did not try to kiss Haytham again and instead grasped on hard to the saddle with both hands. 

“Where are we going, Master Kenway?” he asked, as Haytham reached around him to take the reins.

“To my home. You’ll be safe there.”

“Safe from what?”

“Conspirators. Supporters of Braddock’s, an off-shoot of our order,” Haytham repeated, driving his heels into the horse’s sides.

“Oh,” Charles made, as if this was the first time he had heard this information. Apparently, the cool night air was reawakening some of his faculties. “Thank you,” he added weakly.

“Don’t worry about it at all.”

Haytham drove the horse down the street. The town was emptier this time of night, quieter, and that was why he heard the rapid beat of hooves not belonging to their own horse from some distance away. He snapped the reins and ignored, for the sake of his own sanity, Charles’ sharp breaths as the rough movement of the gallop threw them together with every step. Haytham knew he was hard against Charles’ backside, the friction, smell, and proximity too much for even him to simply ignore, but inappropriate as it was, there was not much to be done about it now when they were likely being followed.

The first shot cracked through the night like thunder. Instinctively, Haytham ducked his head, forcing Charles down with him, but neither they nor their horse were hit. Over his shoulder, he saw two riders approaching. With their horses carrying the weight of just one man each, they were gaining on them quickly. Another shot, and this time Haytham heard the bullet graze his jacket with a hiss of fabric. He would have taken out his own pistol, but he could not trust Charles with the reins right now, and aiming did need a little time.

One man drew his sword in favour of attempting to reload his pistol on horse-back, as he was now almost in reach, anyway. The two riders parted to shut them in from both sides. Haytham did not wait for them to get in perfect position for an attack, but twisted backwards, his hidden blade shooting out from beneath the sleeve of his jacket like a snake’s head. However, he only grazed his target’s neck, for the other man had grabbed the back off his collar, tearing him roughly his way. Haytham clung to the horse with his thighs, still sliding sideways, realising in a flash that all it needed was one more good tug and he’d be off and on the ground, probably getting trampled before these men even had to exert themselves with their weapons to end him.

Something fumbled at his belt and a second later, there was the tell-tale blast of a pistol painfully close to his ear. The grip on his shirt slackened and vanished. Haytham saw the man’s body fall off the horse and heard it land with a thud and crack. Charles snarled like a hound, teeth bared, by far the most aggressive thing Haytham had ever seen an omega in heat do, and perhaps also the most attractive. He was holding Haytham’s smoking pistol in his hand.

Haytham straightened and rammed his hidden blade into the throat of the other attacker, opening it with deadly precision and watching him slump forward over the neck of his horse. Never a good idea, underestimating your enemy. They had probably learned of Charles’ condition and thought that if anything, he’d be a burden on Haytham. Of course, Haytham had thought the same. It was a sensible assumption to make, for most omegas in this state would have managed to contribute to the fight at most by staying out of it, not by performing an execution.

When Charles looked over his shoulder, Haytham claimed his mouth in a kiss, entirely unable to keep himself, with the fire of the fight still in his veins. He bit Charles’ lips, growling against his mouth, and Charles pushed closer, not scared by the vehemence or the blood that had splattered over Haytham’s face. If he could have in any way justified it, he would have stopped this horse and taken Charles over one of the abandoned market stalls they were just rushing past, with everyone who cared to watching, for who could make rules for them? Haytham felt all-powerful in that moment, light-headed still on survival, with his warlike omega pressed against him.

But mercifully, his instincts were not in full control yet, and so Haytham did at least manage to steer them towards his home, with one arm wrapped tightly around Charles’ chest, feeling it rise and fall with laboured breaths.

He worried Charles’ neck with his teeth briefly like a promise before he slid off the horse and then reached up for Charles, who let himself fall into Haytham’s arms and clung to him with bruising strength.

Haytham just managed to separate himself long enough to drive the horse into the barn, lock that, and then open the front door, slamming it shut behind them and turning the key, losing interest so fast he simply left it there in the lock, not even bothering to find a spot for it. Instead, he dragged Charles into the sitting room and threw him down on a sofa.

“Master Kenway...”

Charles’ hands were shaking like leaves in a storm and every inch of him looked tense, the want in his eyes marred by the pain the tight press of his lips and set of his jaw spoke of. To be forced through such an ordeal in the middle of the heat would have had any omega buckle eventually, but Charles only allowed himself to crack when they had eluded the danger. To know he would have such strength bowing willingly before him was enough to finally overcome the last remnants of order in Haytham’s head.

Haytham shushed him, taking his trembling hands and pressing them to the cushions. “I will help you,” he promised, biting his neck again, finding the marks he himself had left to deepen them, then moving on to whatever bare skin was available to him. Charles was tugging at his belt and Haytham allowed him, a slow exhale escaping him as Charles finally got his hands on his manhood, which was thick and heavy, too long left unattended. However, Haytham brushed his fingers off just moments after, despite protest, before he backed off the smallest possible amount and turned Charles around, putting his face in the embroidered silk pillows.

Charles was so wet there were dark spots on his trousers already when Haytham pulled them down, and all good intentions to tease him with his fingers and give him a little time to get used to the stretch went flying out the window. When accompanying someone through a heat, Haytham prided himself on keeping his head and guiding his omegas, but tonight he was all raw need, pulling Charles up by his hips and pushing in, without stop, without giving him a moment to adjust, and Charles moaned with pleasure, his deep voice filling the room. The heat of his body was like a furnace, searing Haytham as he drove into him, finally taking what he should have marked for himself months ago, for in that moment he was positive he would beat bloody any other alpha who even tried to touch Charles.

Charles spent himself first, his overstimulated body holding up only a few moments under Haytham’s attack, but Haytham had waited much too long himself and was barely holding on, too. He hammered into his open body, delighted with the fact that Charles stood up so well to his full strength and finally burying himself deep in him and filling him with his seed as Charles, beyond words now, made broken sounds of encouragement. After taking a last gasping breath, Haytham collapsed against Charles’ back.

It took a moment to regain some measure of self-awareness and when he did, he realised with a start that his knot had already swollen too far to pull back. Like a man woken from a dream, Haytham lifted his head from where it had comfortably rested against the crook of Charles’ neck. His friend had turned his head sideways and in profile Haytham could see a small frown on his face.

“Are you alright?” Haytham asked quietly.

“Yes, quite – it just has been a while since I allowed an alpha to knot me.”

Charles’ voice sounded clearer now. After being mated, an omega would usually have a few hours of sanity before the full force of the heat set back in.

“And you didn’t allow me, either,” Haytham said gently, caressing the back of Charles’ neck. “I do apologise, I was overwhelmed – which I assure you does not happen easily. But if I tried to remove myself now, I think I would hurt you more.”

Charles hesitated for a moment, mouth half-opened, as if he had the words ready on his tongue, but was not sure if he should say them.

“It’s fine if it’s you, Master Kenway,” he answered, finally.

Pride swelling in his chest, Haytham placed a kiss on the corner of Charles’ mouth, which made it pull up in a bright smile.

“You saved my life,” Charles said, after a moment of silence.

“You returned the favour.”

“Who knew a man like Braddock would have associates? He did certainly not make friends easily.”

“I doubt they were of that sort. There’s always people in the world who look for a justification to be cruel, and any connection will do to allow them to follow that urge without punishment,” Haytham answered. He rested against Charles again as he found that the burden did not seem to bother him.

“I’m deeply sorry for acting so out of touch when we met tonight. I really wish you hadn’t seen me like that,” Charles said, sheepishly.

“Oh, but I am _very_ grateful I have seen you like that,” Haytham answered with a playful grin, his lips on Charles’ neck again. “I’m just curious... you welcomed me so readily, it almost seemed like you expected me. I have just seen you are quite capable still of defending yourself in this state. Why were you so forgiving with me?”

“You... you may have been in my thoughts, Master Kenway,” Charles admitted, very quietly, and not without a trace of hope in his voice. “Perhaps that’s why I was not surprised to find you there when I woke up.”

The idea that he had walked out of Charles’ wanton dreams straight into the room pleased Haytham immensely. Of course, he had been aware that Charles idolised him, but he also knew well enough not to mistake every sort of affection for a crush, and Charles had always kept some manner of a polite distance. Now Haytham wished Charles had been a little more impertinent. He could have had this earlier.

The swell at the base of his cock had gone down while they spoke and Haytham sat, pulling slowly out of Charles’ body. The omega huffed, but got on his knees, dragging his trousers up to his waist before he sat next to Haytham.

“I must admit, as much as I was unhappy to have to force you all the way across town during the heat, it has afforded me an excellent opportunity,” Haytham said, tucking his manhood back into his trousers before he leaned in closer, allowing their bodies to share comfortable warmth. “I know I did not put my best foot forward right now – I must admit you had me wild. An alpha should show more control. But perhaps you can be moved to give me another chance?”

“I, I really did not feel like this lacked anything,” Charles stammered.

“Then you’ve had lacking alphas,” Haytham said smugly and pulled him resolutely over to straddle his lap, digging his fingers into the meat of Charles’ thighs. “Who were they?”

It was none of his business, but he could see he had Charles wrapped tightly enough around his fingers that he would say it, and Haytham wanted to know.

“Ah, just fellow soldiers. Not from my regiment, that just gets you a reputation, but...”

Affairs, Haytham could tell, from the way the answer was worded, distractions during a heat or from the din of battle. No threat to him. Maybe some had meant something to Charles then, but right now his bright blue eyes were looking at Haytham like he was the sky and the sun and Haytham intended to keep his attention.

“I do not begrudge you your past, but I do hope you’re done rolling around in tents with the boys now. I will not share you, should you agree to be mine.”

“Master Kenway, I would _never_ go behind your back-”

“Very good.”

He swallowed the rest of the assurance in a kiss. He knew Charles was not the kind of man to stray. Loyalty ran in him like blood. Haytham’s hands grasped him harder and Charles held on, his grip equally as possessive, perhaps a little too much for an omega, but Haytham found he loved the passion. Slowly, he pushed forward with Charles in his arms, letting him sink down onto his back. Leaning over him, he placed one hand on Charles’ chest to fix him in place.

“Now, let me show you how a real alpha treats his omega, my dear Charles.”


End file.
